Thanksgiving
by pizarra en blanco
Summary: AU. Castiel turns to his bestfriend Dean for help when his brothers come to town for Thanksgiving. Destiel. M for language and some sexual content. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Castiel stands on the front porch of the Winchesters' house, gathering all the courage that he has. He's a little-okay, _a lot_-distraught by the phone call and he doesn't really want to bother the Winchesters. But after living in Lawrence for four years, Dean is Castiel's best friend and he is desperate. He raises his hand and knocks on the door before he loses his nerve and clenches his fists as he waits for either of the brothers to open the door. Suddenly, the door opens and he finds himself looking at green eyes.

"Hey, Cas." Dean smiles then steps aside in a silent invitation to enter their home. When he first met Dean, Castiel was surprised with this mannerism and it took six months before he entered this house without verbal encouragement. He steps into the foyer.

"Hello, Dean."

"Come help me with dinner. Sammy demanded pizza," Dean says as he walks towards the kitchen. This is another habit Castiel finds odd with the brothers. They can continue speaking even when walking to a different part of the house.

Shaking his head in amusement, he closes the door and follows Dean but stops at the kitchen's entryway. "Dean," he begins, "I need help." Dean raises his eyebrows and looks at him but doesn't stop piling topping after topping on the pizza dough. Castiel is, as always, amazed at his friend's ability to multitask. Whether cooking, or writing, or tinkering with cars, Dean can do more than one thing at any given time with confidence. "It's about Thanksgiving..." he continues.

"Say no more, Cas," Dean smiles. "You're gonna spend Thanksgiving with us, just like before. Christmas too."

"Yes, about that. As always, I thank you for your invitation..." Cas hesitates and that's enough time for Dean to frown.

"What? You can't come this year? Have other plans?"

"Not quite," Cas says, making Dean's frown deepen. He sighs. _Better start from the beginning._"I...I just received a call from my brother Michael."

"Oh?"

"And he said that since I won't visit New York to celebrate Thanksgiving with them, uh...they'll visit me in Lawrence instead."

"Okaay...well, that's cool then. Your siblings must really miss you if they're willing to make the trip."

"You're invited," he blurts out. "You and Sam."

Dean chuckles. "Okay, lemme get this straight." He bends to put the pizza dough inside the oven, sets the time, and faces Castiel again. "You're _uninviting _yourself from this year's Winchester Thanksgiving so you can invite us to yours?"

Just then, Sam comes into the kitchen. "Who's inviting us to where?"

"Cas is inviting us for Thanksgiving with his freaking siblings."

"Oh, cool." Sam swipes a piece of bacon and eats it. "We'll finally be able to meet the famous Milton clan." _Trust Sam Winchester to look into the bright side of things._

"So what d'you need help with?" Dean asks.

"Uh, Thanksgiving," Castiel answers.

Dean scowls. "Dude, you know I don't do decorations."

"Not the decorations," Cas corrects, "but the Thanksgiving dinner. I...I don't know how to cook." He blushes.

Not one, but both Winchesters laugh, making Castiel blush even more. If he hadn't known them for four years, if they weren't his friends, Castiel would've upped and ran.

"Okay," Dean says, trying to contain his laughter. "Dude, how come you never told me this before?"

"It never came up during our conversations," he explains defensively. Dean starts laughing again. He growls. "This isn't funny, Dean. My siblings are coming and I don't know what to do! I don't want to hire caterers; that's just going to prove their point that I can't take care of myself!" He paces.

"How do you eat when you're not here?" Sam asks.

"I, uh, I sometimes order in pizza. And my housekeeper cooks for me." Having been raised in a house with servants, Castiel does not know how to cook or clean. During his first week in Lawrence, he was just about to give up and go back to New York to accept defeat when Ellen Harvelle, the owner of the local bar named Roadhouse, stepped in. He had been at the bar, griping about his inability to clean his own home, when Ellen told her that Marilyn would be happy to do it. When Marilyn arrived the next day, she took one look at the state of his home and practically ordered him to get out and not come back until sundown. Since then, she had been coming everyday to cook and clean. "But Marilyn has her own family to think of. I don't want her to make the Thanksgiving dinner for me.

"God, Cas, you're so spoiled! Okay, me and Sammy will help. Right, Sammy?"

"Right. But why can't we just do it here, like we used to?"

"My siblings expect the celebrations to take place in my house." Castiel looks around. "And your residence is not big enough."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mr. Millionaire." Dean goes to the fridge and takes out two beers. He hands one to Castiel. "You're staying for dinner," he orders. "Let's see if we can fatten you up."

Sam smirks. "Good luck."

* * *

With Sam out at the movies with his friends, Dean settles in his office in front of his computer. His editor called and told him that his new novel's release is already scheduled, therefore giving Dean a deadline on writing. He sighs. Deadlines are pains in the ass. Seriously. He once voiced out this opinion to his agent over the phone. All Marissa said was, "It would be easier if you were in New York, Dean."

New York. Once he made it big, everybody assumed that he'd take Sammy to New York and never look back again. But Dean didn't want Sammy to leave his friends. Life has already taken so much from them-losing their mother during Sam's birth, losing their father on a mission-that Dean doesn't have the heart to uproot his brother. So they stayed. And if he needs to go to New York to meet with his editor or to promote his books, he leaves Sam with their their dad's friend Bobby and prays that the trip would be quick.

Dean has settled into a writing rhythm when the doorbell interrupts. He glances at the clock and raises an eyebrow. Six o'clock. He looks out the window and sees that the sky has gotten dark. Yup, the clock's not lying. The doorbell rings again, prompting him to stand up. "Coming!" he yells. Not a lot of people use the doorbell, just delivery guys and such. Everybody they know bangs on the door to get his attention and Dean prefers it that way. He holds a certain hate for doorbells, probably intensified with the fact that two soldiers used it to inform him that SSgt. John Winchester is dead. He pulls the door open and is surprised to find his friend on the other side.

"Cas? What are you doing ringing the freaking doorbell?"

"I was just testing to see if it works."

"Course it works! But why test it?"

"Just in case."

"Just in case what?"

"Just in case. May I come in?"

Dean rolls his eyes, knowing how cryptic his friend can sometimes be. Dean stands aside to make way for Cas. "God, you're fucking weird. Come in, asshat." He walks to the kitchen to get a couple of beers. When he comes back, Castiel is shrugging out of his ugly tan trenchcoat.

Dean can't help but watch. This isn't the first time he's staggered with how graceful the smaller man is. And this is also not the first time Dean has felt attraction. Like last night. Cas has looked so lost and helpless that he immediately said 'yes' to this Thanksgiving dinner of his. His puppy eyes could rival Sam's and Dean would probably cut off his right hand had he asked. Still...this is Cas, his friend. And it doesn't matter if Dean's bisexual or not, he draws the line at messing with friends. He hands one beer to Cas and says "Let's order in Chinese. I've been working and I'm too tired to cook. Sammy's out with friends so no one's gonna bitch."

Cas takes the bottle and nods. As Dean orders the food, his eyes rest on Cas. His friend is sitting down on the couch, leafing through one of the many books that litter the coffee table, nursing his bottle of beer. He looks perfect. Dean sighs as the operator repeats his order. This should stop.

* * *

FALL, FOUR YEARS AGO

_For such an expensive vehicle,_ Castiel thinks, _it's a piece of shit._Okay, maybe not. The car is a gift from Gabriel a birthday ago and it's worked fine. Correction: their family mechanic has made sure that it worked fine. However, the vehicle is now emitting strange sounds. Great. Now I am required to find my own mechanic.

Only a week into moving to Lawrence and he already requires two important people: a housekeeper and a mechanic. Castiel moved from New York to keep some distance between him and his siblings and to live a life away from the messy New York lifestyle. Hopefully, Kansas is far enough.

Being the youngest, Castiel is protected from everything. His older siblings consider his life their business-from his friends, to the university he went to, to his romantic relationships. He loves his brothers, really, but their last interference resulted in the conclusion of his relationship with an egocentric British man. Granted, Balthazar did cheat on him and used the Milton name to his own advantage, but he would have appreciated it better had it not been his brothers' goal to air out every single damning thing about Balthazar. So after threatening to never see them again, they let him go to Kansas. He said goodbye to the mansion, the servants, and the expensive lifestyle of the Milton clan.

Castiel frowns as he hears the sound again. He may not love cars but he needs his in order to get to Kansas City and if he lost his car, it would be a long commute. He wanted to leave the family business but as a compromise, his brothers begged him to take over the bank in Kansas City. _Good luck._People say he's smart and he deserves the post, but at the age of 26, taking over the bank will definitely bring resentment from the older managers. It wouldn't even matter that his name is stamped on the bank building.

After asking around, Castiel was directed to Singer's Garage & Salvage Yard. He drives in, looking around. It's a big enough place, but with a lot of piled up vehicles. Castiel crossed his fingers. The place looks like the perfect setting for a drug deal. Or a murder. He spots an old man with grizzly facial hair and a baseball cap on his head, intently examining the engine of a Prius.

Castiel clears his throat. "Excuse me. I'd like my vehicle to be inspected. it's been emitting strange noises..."

The man looks up, looks at his car, and yells, "Dean! Get your butt out here! There's a Benz with your name on it!"

A man comes out from what Castiel can only assume to be the office, wiping his hand on a rag. He's wearing a dirty white shirt and a pair of even dirtier jeans, but it's his face that Castiel stares at. The man walks over to his car and asks, "Hey, man. Uh, what can I help you with?"

"I know you." Castiel blurts out.

The man raises his eyebrows and chuckles, making Castiel blush. "Oh, I've got one of those faces, you know?"

But Castiel is unconvinced. He has a pretty good memory and this man is familiar to him. In Castiel's mind, he remembers seeing a photo of this man wearing a white dress shirt, and a suit jacket with no tie, sitting behind a mahogany desk. Who is he? A board member? No, too young. CEO? Could be. The jacket he was wearing was...

"Jacket," Castiel murmurs.

"I'm sorry?"

"I've seen you on a book jacket. Dean Winchester. _The Beginning of the End._"

Castiel gapes. Dean Winchester is America's latest golden child. Having been first published two years ago when he wa only 20, he has since written three books, all dystopian novels. His last book, _The Martian_, is sitting on Castiel's backseat, in fact.

"Oh, great," the old man drawls gruffly, "one of them fans."

The man, Dean, blushes and mutters, "Dammit, Bobby..."

"Well?" Bobby demands. "Are you two idjits just gonna stare at each other the whole day? Get to work already!"

Bobby shuts the hood of the Prius and goes inside the office, leaving Castiel to explain his predicament to Dean. Dean makes short work on his car. Something about a loose part or something. Castiel wasn't really paying attention, choosing instead to wonder why a published author-a well-paid one at that-is working on his car.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Dean speaks up. "I like helping him out."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Bobby. I like helping him out. He, uh, he's there for us a lot, especially when my dad was overseas." Castiel nods but says nothing. "And it gives me something to do, you know? I don't write all the freaking time."

* * *

"Food should be here in 15," Dean informs him. After a while, he asks, "What are you thinking about?"

_I'm thinking about the first day we met. I'm thinking about white shirts, greasy rags, book covers, and beautiful green eyes._"Our menu for Thanksgiving."

He looks at Dean and frowns. Dean is staring at him with a strange light in his eyes. _Does he know what I was really thinking about?_

"Dude, did you just say 'menu'?" He smiles and Dean laughs. After a while, he continues, "Don't worry about it, alright? I was thinking a turkey, some veggies. And I wanna ask Ellen to make us some pie. Hey, how about cornbread?"

This time, Castiel really laughs. "Dean, the last time you tried baking, you almost gave me and your brother food poisoning."

"Hey! I didn't know the flour went bad, you know!"

"Dean, it wasn't the flour, it was the baking powder. Just admit it that you can't bake"

"Telling you, man, it was the flour. I made the damned thing! And besides, we wouldn't tell your brothers," Dean grumbles. "And have you ever seen Sammy more pissed?"

"Actually, that time you-"

"Shut up."

Just then, the food arrives. As Dean lays out the chow mein, Castiel can't keep his eyes off of Dean's hands. Capable hands. This should stop.

* * *

FALL, FOUR YEARS AGO

Dean sits at the bar with his new friend. After fixing the car, he invited Castiel Milton to the Roadhouse with him.

Castiel. Dean doesn't know what it is about the man that made him explain about working at Bobby's. It's probably the same thing that prompted him to invite the new guy for a drink. "So Castiel. That's an unusual name. What kind of angel is it?"

"My father named me after the Angel of Thursday."

Ah, yes. The famous Milton monarch was quite the eccentric with his children's names. Everybody knows the Milton name. They dabbled in everything, but their most famous interests are banking and corporate law. Dean has never been one for gossip, but he does know who they are and how powerful they are. Dean should be wary of being on speaking terms with a Milton, but when he looks at the guy, well, his gut instincts are telling him that it's okay. Castiel looks like a Milton but so far, he doesn't act like one that Dean thinks maybe friendship with him ain't so bad after all.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Dean, they wouldn't like pie." It's Saturday and it's Roadhouse night for Castiel and the Winchesters. The tradition started about a year after they've known him because he's has been busy rearranging their Kansas City branch that he could only spend time with them during Saturdays. And even though Sam is only 15 years old, he's allowed to eat inside the bar. Ellen has known them since they were children and is perhaps the only female influence in the boys' lives. The servers know them as well, and Sam is always welcome to eat lunch or dinner at the Roadhouse, especially if Dean is in New York doing whatever it is that famous novelists do.

"What are you talking about? _Who doesn't like pie?_" They're still discussing what to serve for Thanksgiving and Castiel is adamant about leaving out the pie.

"Dean,' Sam produces what Dean calls a 'bitchface', "you enjoy pie but not everybody does. So just listen to Cas when he says his brothers aren't big fans of pie! They're his brothers, God!"

"Fine! No pie. But I'm still asking Ellen for one so I'll have something fucking decent to eat after all the girly food we'll be having!" Castiel nods immediately to appease Dean and sees the younger Winchester roll his eyes at his brother. He smiles at Sam. They both know that despite all his complaints, Dean loves to cook. He spends his days alternately writing, joining Bobby at the shop, fixing up their house, more writing, and cooking. He makes Sam's school lunches and cooks breakfast and dinner for them. Sam often regales Castiel with stories of Dean's new culinary creations when the older Winchester is out of earshot. And since it's Dean's life goal to increase Castiel's body weight, he knows first-hand how good a cook Dean can be.

"Have you invited Bobby yet?" Castiel asks.

Dean snorts. "This is your shindig. You invite him."

Castiel glares at Dean and both Winchesters smirk. They are aware that even after all these years of living in Lawrence, he still does not know how to interact with Bobby Singer. Truth be told, he's downright terrified of the man. Bobby is gruff, he has hunting rifles that he cleans regularly, and he calls them 'idjits'. Granted, he is always kind to Castiel, but the younger man suspects it has more to do with him being friends with his surrogate sons than genuine affection for the banker. He sighs. He must make it a point to visit Bobby during the week and invite him to the Thanksgiving dinner. Just then, his phone rings. He excuses himself and steps out of the bar.

"Milton."

"Castiel, it's MIchael."

"Hello, Michael."

"I just want to make sure that our plans are still on schedule."

"Of course. I'm looking forward to it."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you spent the past four Thanksgivings with us?"

"Michael.."

Castiel hears scraping sounds from the other line.

"Ignore him, Cassy."

"Lucifer?"

"Yeah, bro. Listen, we just want to ask how you are. You seldom take our calls except for business. And sometimes, even then, you send an underling."

"Oh. Well, I am fine."

"Great. You need us to bring anything?"

"No, thank you. Everything will be taken care of."

"Cool. So we'll just send your secretary our flight particulars, alright?"

"Alright."

"Will you pick us up from the airport?"

"I can't, Lucifer, my vehicle is not big enough."

"Okay, we'll just have to rent cars then. So we'll see you, okay?"

"Alright. Good bye."

Castiel sighs. And so it begins.


	2. Chapter 2

FALL, FOUR YEARS AGO

Castiel rings the doorbell. This is the third house and he's carrying another plate of cookies that his housekeeper has made. According to Marilyn, it is only right for newcomers to give food to their neighbors and Castiel, wanting to be differentiated from ordinary New Yorkers, agreed. Somewhere inside the house, he hears a hammer pounding rhythmically. Castiel presses the doorbell again, hoping that the bell will be heard above the din. Finally, the door opens with a flourish and Castiel is looking at familiar green eyes.

"Castiel Milton?" Dean Winchester asks, one hand on the doorframe, the other holding a hammer.

"I, uh.." Castiel stammers. He didn't know that Dean lives here and if he has, he would have brought Marilyn with him. He doesn't want the author to think that he's been following him like a stalker. "Marilyn says that it is polite for new homeowners to bring cookies to their neighbors."

"Marilyn?"

"Marilyn Brookes. My housekeeper."

"Oh, yeah, I know Marilyn. Uh, come in, I guess." As Castiel steps inside, he looks around. The living room is filled with books. Arranged in the bookshelves, on the coffee table, on top of drawers. All books. "So, you live around here, then?" Dean asks.

"Yes. I recently acquired the house at the end of the street."

"Old Parson's place? Wow."

"Yes."

Dean chuckles. "Here, let me get that for you." He takes the plate of cookies from Castiel's hands and walks to the kitchen. He sets down the hammer and the plate on the island. He looks at the hammer and wonders what Dean was fixing. _He must have been building a new bookshelf for all his books._

"I'm making a new desk for my office."

Castiel looks at Dean, who was smiling at him. "Do you have superpowers?"

"What?" Dean says as he hands him a cup of coffee.

"You always seem to know what I'm thinking."

Dean snickers. "Don't need superpowers, Cas. You were kinda staring at the freaking hammer.'

"Cas?" He frowns.

"Sorry. Just that Castiel is a bit of a mouthful."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. I-"

"No, I-I like it. It's better than Cassy."

"Oh." Dean laughs softly. "So, you wanna see it?" And despite his protests, Dean carries the cookies and his coffee to his office, where they sat on the floor and ate.

"The house is old. Like really old. My parents bought this when they first got married from this old bachelor who couldn't wait to get rid of the place. I'm fixing it up little by little. Right now, I'm working on this office because Sammy, my brother, says I can't keep on using the kitchen table for my work." He laughs.

"Why fix it yourself? Why not just hire contractors?"

"Dude, why hire contractors when I can do it much better than they can? And besides, it gives me something to do, especially when I can't move on with my story." He bites a cookie. "How about you? Why'd you buy the Parson's place?"

So Castiel talks. And as he talks, he can't help but think that this is the easiest conversation he's had in a long while.

* * *

"Dean!" Sam shouts from the living room, breaking Dean's concentration. He's editing his latest chapter before sending them over to his editor.

"Sammy, you better be bleeding to death," he growls.

"Look!" Sam thrusts an envelope in his face. "Well? Open it!"

Dean takes the envelope and looks at it. It has the seal of the University of Kansas. He frowns. He doesn't really want to open the letter but with Sam watching, he has no choice. He tears the envelope open and reads the content.

"Well? What do they want?" demands Sam who's practically jumping on his seat.

"Uh, they want me to give a guest lecture at some seminar next year."

"Really? Really? Cool!" Sam can get excited about the geekiest of things. "Are you gonna go? You have to go, man! I'm sure it's gonna be awesome!"

"Sam, it's for next year, alright? I don't have to decide now." He brings the letter to his office. When he turns around, Sam is standing just inside the door. "What?"

"Are you gonna think about this, Dean?"

He sighs. "Okay, okay, I promise." Sam smiles so brightly it hurts to look at him. "Anyway, don't you have to be somewhere else, squirt? I need to work in peace.'

Sam rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm going. Adam needs help with his computer. And don't call me squirt-I'm as big as you."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean settles back in his chair and tries to read paragraph thirteen, but his gaze falls on the letter. he sighs and stuffs the envelope in his drawer, along with the others like it.

* * *

"Sir?" Castiel stops at the voice of his secretary. "A man named Dean is on line one. He insists on speaking with you."

"Thank you, Amanda." He shuts the door to his office and proceeds to his desk, all the while wondering why Dean would call him at work. He gave the Winchesters his office number just in case they need him for emergencies, but they never really use it, opting to call his cell instead.

"Dean? Why are you calling me at work? Has something happened?"

"Hey, yeah, sorry about that. Didn't mean to use the office number but I couldn't reach your cell."

"Really?" He fishes in his pocket for his phone and sees that-"No battery. I apologize, Dean. I have forgotten to charge it last night."

Dean chuckles, bringing warmth to Castiel's ear. Honestly, the man can get a considerable amount of money should he choose to deliver phone sex. "No worries. Listen, when are you gonna get out of that expensive office of yours, huh? Tomorrow's Thanksgiving and we need to go shopping for groceries."

Castiel inwardly groans. This means that his siblings will arrive tomorrow. Yesterday, Castiel sent them identical emails on how to get to his house in Lawrence, all the while praying that they get lost in the way. He clears his throat. "Uh, yes. What did you have in mind?"

Dean chuckles again and Castiel feels his face blush. _Did I really just say that?_It sounds like an invitation from a harlot who is interested in sexual activities. Just hearing his friend grin tells him that the implication is not lost on Dean.

Thankfully, Dean chooses not to mock him for it. "Well, how about this: you get out of that bank four hours early and then meet me at the grocery? I'm sure they can spare their Big Boss for one day. Better yet, tell them all to go home. Like, right now."

"That sounds like a good plan. The part about me leaving, that is."

"What can I say, man? I'm a fucking genius when it comes to planning." This time, it was Castiel who laughs. Dean has a penchant for ruining even the best-laid plans. "By the way, were you able to invite Bobby?"

"Dean, I hate you," he growls. "You know very well that I invited Bobby."

Dean laughs. "Yeah, he told me. He also said you brought him some brownies that Marilyn baked."

"You know what he said when I extended my invitation? He said, 'already got plans so thanks but no thanks' and then he called me an 'idjit'."

"Dude, that's his term of endearment."

"For you and Sam, maybe. But for me, he means it every single time. He hates me," Castiel finishes dejectedly.

"No, dude, he doesn't. He liked the brownies."

"He likes everything Marilyn makes."

"Okay...yeah. But he wouldn't tolerate your presence if he hates you. Trust me."

"Very well. Now, I must get back to work if I were to leave early."

"What? You actually work in that place? Don't you just, I don't know, delegate to a staff of ninety and then sit back on your big manager's chair?"

"I'll meet you at three. Goodbye, Dean."

"What? Wait-"

Castiel hangs up.

* * *

Dean grins as he locks his phone. irritating Cas is one of his favorite pastimes. Hearing his voice is always a plus.

_What did you have in mind?_Dean groans as he remembers. He felt heat instantly as soon as Cas said those words. Over the phone, the bastard's voice is even deeper than usual and it was just too much for Dean that he had to go hide in Bobby's office for the remainder of the call.

_What did you have in mind?_ Oh, Dean has a lot of things in mind. Starting with that hair of his. Then that throat. Then...He shakes his head. He'd better stop this if he wants to make it through Thanksgiving.

* * *

Dean parks the Impala next to Cas's Mercedez at the grocery store parking lot. He glances at his watch: 3:05. As usual, Cas is early.

He sighs. After the phone call, he spent his time doing unnecessary chores around the house and clock watching. The phone call unsettled him, leaving his nerves on end. Thank God Sam is out doing school stuff with his nerd friends. His brother has always been sensitive to his moods and actions and might be able to figure out the reason why Dean is so on edge.

Cas gets out of his car the same time Dean does. Dean has to smile. His friend was obviously waiting for him before entering the store. One look at Cas and he knows he's right: the man absolutely looks terrified. "Dude, it's just the grocery! Relax!" Castiel frowns at him so he brings an arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "Come on, let's get this over with."

* * *

THANKSGIVING, FOUR YEARS AGO

Castiel can't quite believe it. Dean Winchester invited him to their family's Thanksgiving. He must admit that even being on speaking terms with the author for months, Castiel is still in awe of him. Despite the crass attitude and words, Dean is full of intelligence that he hides behind the smirks and his affinity for manual labor. Castiel called his siblings in New York immediately after accepting Dean's invitation. He was expecting Michael or Raphael to get angry but they just wished him a happy Thanksgiving and to remind him to visit for Christmas.

He walks to the Winchester's home bearing a tin of apple pie that Marilyn baked. After handing the pie to him, his housekeeper said that it is better to arrive early to help with the preparations. He follows Marilyn's advice. After all, her instructions on how to interact with the people of Lawrence are quite conducive and she hasn't failed him yet.

He is about to press the doorbell when he remembers Dean's abhorrence for the thing. So he knocks instead and waits. After a moment, the door is opened by a petite young woman, with curly blonde hair, and a bright smile.

"Hey, you must be Cas."

"Uh, hello." He tries to smile, he really does, but he is certain he failed. The presence of the young woman took him by surprise. _Is this Dean's girlfriend?_ Dean's sexual exploits are legendary, be it a man or a woman. _He didn't mention a girlfriend. _And then he resents the jealousy in his thoughts.

Then he hears Dean's voice. "Jo! Don't scare my guest!"

Jo suddenly grabs Castiel's free hand and drags him inside. "I wasn't scaring him, jerk!"

Castiel looks around and sees the other guests in the living room: Bobby, Roadhouse owner Ellen, and Ash. He's not really sure what Ash does but he hangs around the Roadhouse a lot. "Hello," Castiel greets the room at large.

"Is that pie?" Dean asks, his eyes huge.

"Uh, yes. Marilyn says you like pie. She made one for you."

"Awesome!" Dean takes the pie from Castiel. "And don't mind Jo, she forgets her manners sometimes."

"I do not!"

"She also has a mean right hook," Sam informs him with a reverence he ordinarily reserves for Dean, books, and Math. "She punched Dean once because he was being a jerk." Everybody laughs.

Castiel nods as the younger Winchester leads him to the kitchen where Dean is checking on the state of the turkey. "Thank you, Samuel. I will make sure to tread carefully when Jo is concerned."

"Good."

"Guys!" Jo complains. "Stop scaring him!" She then holds out her hand to Castiel. "Jo Harvelle."

Castiel takes the slender hand and shakes it. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Castiel Milton. Harvelle as in-?"

"Yup," Ellen says, "she's my daughter."

"Oh," he says and turns back to Jo. "So how long have you and Dean been dating?"

"What?!" Jo's eyes widen. "No! Oh, God no!"

Dean closes the oven door and turns to Jo, scowling. "Really Jo? Really? You had to deny it twice? Am I that awful?"

"Well, Winchester, I do have something called self-respect."

Everyone, including Castiel, laughs at Dean's indignation. Castiel's relief is overrun by the fact that it shouldn't matter who Dean dates. He values Dean's friendship too much to ruin it.

* * *

Dean rolls his eyes heavenward. Turns out, Castiel is just as bad in the grocery store as Sam.

_"Dean, I like these vegetables. According to the sign, they are organic."_

_"Dean, it is better to buy cranberry sauce in the jar than the one in the can."_

_"Dean, let's buy the extra virgin olive oil. Studies say it is far healthier."_

He grinds his teeth as he pushes the cart to the dairy section. He's gonna have to sit Sam down and tell him to stop teaching Cas to eat girl food. As he looks at the dairy shelf, he expects Cas to give him a lecture about the dietary benefits of milk when he notices that his friend is nowhere in sight. Dean starts to panic and goes back to the way he came. The nerd must have gotten lost in the olive oil section. _Just great. I told him to stay close. _Just his luck to lose Cas in the grocery store. When the Miltons find out, they're gonna throw him in jail for sure.

Suddenly, he hears Cas's voice. "Dean."

He turns his head and sees his friend in front of the apples. "Cas! Man, what the hell? One minute you're there and the next-What are you doing?"

"I'm putting these apples into the grocery cart."

"Yeah, dude, I can see that. Why?"

"They are organic."

Dean rolls his eyes. "We don't need them, Cas. Put them back."

But Cas gives him the puppy eyes; Dean visibly winces. "But...I like these apples."

Dean sighs. Between him and Sam, Dean's never gonna be able to say 'no' to anything. "Fine. Get the freaking apples if you want."

Cas smiles wide, making Dean blush. "Thank you, Dean."

After Cas is contented with the number of apples (fifteen, Dean counted), Dean grabs his hand for the rest of the trip, effectively preventing the banker from getting more fruit. And if his stomach's acting a little bit crazy because of the heat of Cas's hand, Dean will just have to ignore his damned stomach.

* * *

_Grocery shopping_, Castiel decides, _is enjoyable_. He smiles as he parks his car in the garage. His hand is still tingling from Dean's hold. His friend's hands are calloused because of all the manual labor he does to pass the time, but Castiel can't seem to care. Dean held his hand throughout the entire experience and he is content.

He looks into the rear view mirror to see Dean parking the Impala behind him. It has been decided that they'll 'put away' the groceries then go back to Dean's house for dinner. He gets out of the Mercedes and walks over to help Dean get the bags from the trunk. With two grocery bags in his arms and Dean carrying two more, Castiel opens his front door.

"Hey, bro!"

Castiel knows that voice. "Gabriel?" He looks around the parlor and groans. Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel are in his home. "What are you doing here? Your flight wasn't supposed to arrive until tomorrow." He frowns.

"Meh," Gabriel shrugs and puts his hands in the pockets of his pants. "We decided to surprise you."

"How did you get in?"

"Your housekeeper let us in. I like her. She said we're even more handsome in person than in the photos." Lucifer smirks.

"And who is _he_?" Michael asks.

Castiel glances over his shoulder at Dean. His friend looks just as surprised as Castiel. He sighs. _Well, I suppose introductions are in order. _"This is my friend, Dean. Dean, I'd like you to meet my brothers Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel."

Dean nods and his brothers nod in return. "I'd shake your hands but mine are kinda full."

"Right," Castiel says. He and Dean walk towards the spacious kitchen that is usually Marilyn's domain. Together, they put the groceries to their rightful places. When they finish, they turn around to find the Miltons by the kitchen doorway, all with their hands across their chests.

"Looks like Dean-o here doesn't need a map in this big ol' house," Gabriel remarks. Castiel reddens at what his brother is implying and he looks at Dean. His friend, however, just leans against the counter and shrugs.

"I know my way around. I've known Cas since he moved here."

"_'Cas'_?" Raphael raises an eyebrow.

"Dean, Dean...where have I seen you before?" Lucifer turns to his brothers. "Where have I seen him before?"

"Probably from here." Out of nowhere, Gabriel pulls out Castiel's copy of Dean's book, _Project Resolution_. On the back of the book is a picture of Dean, wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, in mid-laugh. Castiel is horrified.

"Ah, yes. Dean Winchester, the renowned author. Tell me, Dean, do _you _like this photo?" Michael holds up the book.

"Michael!" Castiel yells at his eldest brother. He pales at what Michael saw written on the picture. He is about to say more when Dean puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Wow, you only just met me and already I'm getting the third degree? I feel so special! If this is what Cas has to go through every day, no wonder he left New York." Dean pauses to see the effect of his words and he wasn't disappointed. Cas's brothers all glare at him and he can swear that Raphael actually growls. "Listen, you dicks, I would enjoy a pissing match with you, but I just spent the afternoon teaching your brother how to buy groceries. I'm tired and I still need to make dinner for my own brother. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to go home." He pats Castiel's shoulder twice and leaves.

Castiel glares at his brothers until he hears the door close behind Dean. "What are you doing here?" he demands with barely contained anger. He is uncertain whether Dean will still be his friend after this. It seems that his brothers have not changed-they still want to dictate who he can be friends with.

"We're here for Thanksgiving, Cassy." Gabriel spreads his arms wide.

"And what? You couldn't humiliate me over the phone that you just have to do it in person?"

Lucifer steps forward. "No, Cassy, it's not like that. You just surprised us, that's all. We didn't know you wouldn't be here and we absolutely didn't know that you'd be with _him_. We're only trying to look out for you."

Castiel's cellphone interrupts the conversation. He pulls it out and reads the text message:

_[from Dean] Making your fave lasagna. Ditch ur dickhead bros and join us. Sam wants to see you too._

He breathes a sigh of relief. It seems that Castiel can keep Dean's friendship for another day as his friend doesn't seem angry at him. He replies.

_[to Dean] Good idea. Be there immediately._

He puts his phone back in his pocket and pokes a finger at Lucifer's chest. "Dean is my friend and he didn't deserve that. And keep in mind that I can take care of myself." He walks out of the kitchen and slams the front door on his way out.


	3. Chapter 3

"Cas!" Sam's voice can be heard from the living room. Bobby drove him over when Dean texted that he and Cas were on their way home. Since then, Sam's been waiting by the door for Cas to show his face. "Look at what I got!"

Dean adds more cheese to the lasagna as he listens to Sam and Cas talk about nerd stuff. He's still pissed at what happened back at Cas's house so he keeps to himself in the kitchen. _Dicks. _No wonder Cas wanted a place as far away from them as possible. He turns away from the oven and bumps into Cas, whose blue eyes are wide.

"Cas! Don't do that!"

"My apologies, Dean."

He walks around Cas to get the ingredients for the salad. His brother _insisted _that he needs salad, that bitch.

"Dean, I-I apologize for my brothers' rudeness and I-"

"Dude, I'm not angry that they're dicks to me. I'm angry that they're dicks to you!"

"They're not, really. They're just...overprotective and overzealous."

"They're dicks, that's what they are. If Sam ever pulls that kind of shit on any of my friends, you can make sure that I will beat his ass till he gets some manners."

"I know, Dean." Cas sighs and Dean immediately feels guilty. He shouldn't be shouting at Cas for the things his brothers said. "If you prefer to not attend the dinner anymore, I'll completely understand."

"Dude, you'd think that about me?" _Dammit, Winchester, stop shouting! _He expels a breath to calm himself. "I said I'll help so I'll help."

"Alright." Castiel nods and Dean is glad to see his friend smile again. Then he groans because this might mean that he has to play nice with the dickwads.

"Go get Sam, will you? Dinner's almost done."

* * *

FALL, SIX YEARS AGO

Dean and Sam are sitting on Bobby's porch, both holding cold cans of soda. Dean watches his little brother stare at the dirt. "Look, Sammy, it's only for two weeks."

"I know," Sam says in a quiet voice.

Dean sighs and wipes a hand on his face. As much as he hates leaving Sammy, he needs to go promote his books. Marissa has given him a schedule filled with book signings and television interviews for two weeks. Being eleven years older, his first priority will always be Sam. Dean knows that he needs to promote his books but it doesn't make it easier to leave his little brother behind, especially after their father's death the year before. He also hates flying but he's gotta have to do it if he wants to back in Kansas in two weeks.

"Hey, kid, don't worry. Bobby'll take care of you. I bet he'll even let you eat as many carrots as you want. Besides, school starts tomorrow and you'll probably be too busy to miss me. I'm pretty sure you'll worry more about getting Katie to notice you." He nudges his brother with his shoulder. "Am I right?"

Sam reddens. "Jerk."

Dean grins. "I'll bring back something for you, I promise."

Just then, a car pulls up. A beautiful woman with blonde gets off the car and walks towards them as Bobby comes out to the porch to say goodbye.

"Hello, Dean, Sam."

Sam is still keeping his head down so Dean elbows him. "Hey, Marissa," Sam greets her gloomily.

Thankfully, Marissa doesn't take it personally. "Don't worry, Sam. I'll take care of your brother. We all know how good he is at taking orders."

Sam finally grins at Marissa, knowing full well that Dean doesn't follow orders from anyway. Dean sends a grateful smile at his agent. It's hard to find an agent, but even harder to find one that understands your devotion to your brother. He knows he's lucky to have Marissa on his side. The agent taps her watch then walks back to the car so he grabs Sam by the shoulders and ruffles his shaggy hair. Then, he stands to pat Bobby's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of 'im," the old man promises.

He gets inside the car and waves goodbye through the window. He sighs. _it's gonna be a long two weeks._

* * *

Castiel pulls his coat closer to him as he walks back to his house. Dinner was a fun affair as Sam entertained them with tales of the new computer application that he and his friend Adam downloaded. Afterwards, Castiel pulls Dean aside and hands him a spare key to the back door of his house. Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "For tomorrow," he says.

Dean accepts the key and puts it in the pocket of his jeans while Castiel fantasizes about giving him a different, more valuable key. Castiel shakes his head at the thought. It does not do well to think of such things. As he gets closer to his house, he can see the light on through the living room windows. He sighs heavily. So his brothers are still in his home. _Might as well get this over with then send them on their way._

He hears the television as soon as he opens the door. When he enters his living room, he sees his brothers sprawled on couches, watching a movie, and eating-

"Pizza?" The room is littered with boxes from the local pizzeria. He's surprised that his brothers even know how to order food through the phone.

They all turn to look at him. Lucifer shuts the TV off as Gabriel explains. "Well, you left us and we were hungry. We saw the number on the fridge so we thought, why not?"

"Alright," he says, "but please clean up afterwards. My housekeeper took pains to clean the entire house when she should have been home. it's only polite."

"Uh, yes," Michael clears his throat. "We will clean up."

"Good." he turns to leave.

"Cassy, wait." Lucifer holds out a hand to stop him so he turns to look at his brothers and glares.

"What?" he growls.

"We want to apologize for our behavior," Michael explains as he looks at his expensive shoes. He raises an eyebrow at that. His brothers want to apologize? His brothers do not apologize to anybody. He waits for Michael to continue. "We...apologize for being rude to your friend Dean. You haven't been home for the last four Thanksgivings that, well..."

"What Mike's saying is that we all know we're lousy brothers but there's no need to swap us for the Winchesters," Lucifer says.

"What Lucifer is saying is that we want to ensure that these Winchesters aren't taking advantage of you," Raphael grinds out.

"What Raphy's saying is that we want to make sure that Dean-o is not another Balthazar," Gabriel explains.

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep the headache at bay. His brothers fall silent and Castiel realizes that they really want his forgiveness. "Let's get this straight: I am not in a romantic or sexual relationship with Dean and he and his brother are not taking advantage of me. If anything, I'm taking advantage of their kindness and generosity." Castiel glowers at his brothers once more. "Furthermore, you should have been honest with me regarding your arrival in Kansas. And lastly, you should apologize to Dean."

Michael's and Raphael's eyes spark with anger at his last words but Lucifer and Gabriel elbows them. Michael nods eventually.

"Very well. Why don't you clean up then I'll drive you to your hotel? I'll see if Dean is still awake so we can make use of another vehicle."

"Uh...Cassy?"

Castiel pulls his phone out of his pocket without looking up. "Yes, Lucifer?"

"We haven't checked into any hotel."

Castiel's head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

"We haven't checked into any hotel. We didn't reserve accommodations anywhere."

"Why-?"

"We thought we'd stay here with you."

Castiel runs a hand through his already unruly hair.

"Look, bro, we just wanted to spend time with you," Gabriel says. "And from the looks of it, you have enough rooms in the house."

"Yes, and the housekeeper was kind enough to prepare rooms for us before she left for the day," Raphael adds quietly.

"Anything else you want to tell me before I trip inside my own home?"

"Uh..." Gabriel hesitates. "We're staying the entire weekend?"

"That is it!" Castiel snaps. It is not often that he gets angry and, as the youngest child, he doesn't like confrontations. However, even he has his limits. "Fine! However, I have conditions. Tomorrow, you will stay clear of the house until dinner, you are going to apologize to Dean and you are going to be polite! Do I make myself clear?"

His brothers eagerly nod. With that, he stomps up the big staircase to his room and slams the door behind him. Tonight is the most times he has had to slam doors in his history of living in old Parson's place.

* * *

FOURTH OF JULY, TWO YEARS AGO

Castiel looks around Dean's backyard, looking for his friend. Ash, Ellen, and Bobby are talking by the grill while Sam and Jo are preparing the table. Jo just graduated from university and is spending the summer in Lawrence.

"Cas!" Sam waves him over. "Is that the potato salad?"

"Yes. Marilyn says it is perfect for today."

He hears Dean chuckle from behind him. He looks over his shoulder to see Dean in a plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, carrying a plate of raw steaks.

"What's funny, Dean?"

Dean shakes his head. "You know, I gotta send Marilyn a fruit basket and a thank you note. She's good at teaching you how to be a real boy."

Everyone laughs as Castiel scowls. Then Jo gives him a kiss on the cheek and puts an arm around his shoulders. She leads him to the table, where he put down the bowl of potato salad. "Don't mind him. Help us with the table."

Just then, a woman shouts. "Winchester!" Everybody looks at the newcomer. Castiel has never seen her before. She has a slender frame and long blonde hair. And looks absolutely expensive in her sleek white dress and oversized tote.

"Hey, Marissa!" Sam greets her as Dean groans. So this is Dean's agent. Dean has told Castiel a lot about her but utterly failed to mention that she is beautiful.

"Hey, Sam, you're getting taller!" Marissa grins. She then hands Sam a plastic covered graphic novel. "A new one from Delfin that I'm sure you'll love." Delfin is Sam's current favorite graphic novel artist.

The younger Winchester can barely keep his excitement. "Cool, thanks!" He promptly tears the plastic off of the book.

"Hey, hey!" Dean warns. "Save that for later, Sammy!" Sam throws him the plastic which Dean ignores, choosing instead to turn to Marissa. "What now?!"

"Dean!" Ellen scolds, eyes flashing, telling Dean without words that he'd better be nicer or else. Dean mumbles an apology. He doesn't need to be told twice as past experience has shown him Ellen can kick his ass even at her age.

"We need to take a new photo of you for the books," Marissa says without preamble.

"A new one?!"

The agent grins. "Of course, Winchester. It's a new book, a new picture."

"That's complete bullshit, Marissa! We got along just fine with the old photo for the previous books! What's so special about this one?"

Marissa sighs. "Look, according to reviewers, your books mature as you mature, making you a better writer. The old photo was designed to make you look older than you really were to make readers take you more seriously. Now, both your readers and critics know that when you write, you mean business, so we need a new photo that will show the true you."

Dean holds out his arms. "I'm no model, Marissa!"

"We know that, jerkface. What I want you to do is just relax." Marissa reaches inside her purse and pulls out a high-end DSLR camera. "Just...pretend I'm not there."

"Dammit, Marissa!"

"Dean, this could be worse. They wanted to hire a professional photographer for this. I convinced them that won't be such a good idea. Now, do you want me to go back to New York and bring in the big guns or do I take your damn photo?" Dean glares at her. "You're lucky you have your good looks, Winchester, because your personality leaves a lot to be desired."

Afterwards, Marissa tries to take a photo of Dean, but the author has taken to keeping by Castiel's side. Dean's always been uncomfortable with attention, choosing instead to hide behind his novels and his words. As the afternoon rolls in, Dean goes inside the house for some reprieve. To Castiel's surprise, Marissa drops into the seat that Dean just vacated and groans.

"I hate Dean. He is deliberately making it hard for me."

Castiel thinks for a moment before answering the agent. He's not entirely comfortable with Marissa. When Dean introduced him to her, she just inspected him from head to toe then smiled wide, as if she knows a secret that he doesn't. "He just...doesn't like the attention."

Marissa snorts. "_Please. _Have you met Dean? He's the ultimate attention whore. He just wants to make me suffer."

"I'm sure that's only second to his priorities." Castiel smiles as Marissa laughs.

"Hey, stop being a bad influence on my friend." Dean shows up, frowning at his agent. He then turns to Castiel. "Come on, Cas, got something to show you." He turns and walks towards the house.

Castiel stands and, seeing as Dean's back is turned, points at the camera. "May I? He might be less nervous if it were me."

"Go ahead, handsome." The agent winks at him.

He finds Dean in his office sitting on the carpeted floor, staring at a decorative box in front of him.

"What did you want to show me?" Castiel asks as he sits opposite Dean.

Dean scowls at the camera. "What are you doing with that?"

"I just want to look at the photos." He shrugs. "So what did you want to show me?"

Dean points at the box. "This belonged to my mom. Found it in the attic the other day." He opens the box and pulls out a lock of blonde hair tied with a green ribbon. He hands this to Castiel. "This used to be mine."

Castiel gapes. "This is blonder than your hair now."

Dean blushes. "Well, my hair got darker as I got older." He pulls another lock of hair, this time light brown. "And this was Sam's. Dad was the one who cut it because Mom, well, you know..."

Castiel nods. Dean has told him that Mary Winchester died due to complications during childbirth. Castiel fingers the locks of hair with reverence, knowing that Dean seldom lets his family and friends see him in such a vulnerable state.

Suddenly, Dean speaks up. "Oh man! You should have seen Sammy cry! He would get red in the face and his forehead would just scrunch up. And his poop! Oh, God, he was the smelliest kid ever." Dean laughs, his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

Castiel lifts the camera, adjusts the focus, and says, "Dean." Once Dean looks at him, he snaps the picture.

"Cas..." Dean warns.

"You need to relax. Marissa will not get a decent photo if you continue on stonewalling her."

"Didn't mean to." He wipes a hand on his face. "Dammit, I just like writing, you know. Probably the only thing that saved my grades in college. All this-" He waves his hand in the air. "-just seems too much."

"You're not an idiot, Dean, you're one of the smartest people I know. So stop putting yourself down. And I know you prefer writing than to take part in the activities that come with being a famous author, but they go hand in hand."

"Fine," Dean grumbles.

"Will you let her take your photo?"

"Yeah, Cas. I said 'fine'."

Castiel nods and they proceed to talk about the trinkets inside the box, forgetting about everything else. When they finally emerge, Castiel shows the photo to Marissa and the agent smiles. She no longer hounds Dean for a photo because Castiel already took it for her.

Later that summer, Marissa sends them advanced copies of Dean's new book. Underneath the picture of Dean is something that Castiel did not expect. Surnames were excluded, but it only added to the intimacy of the thing. Seeing that one line makes Castiel smile.

_Photograph by Cas._

* * *

Freshly showered, Castiel walks down the staircase to the kitchen where delicious smells are coming from. His housekeeper must have decided to come today to make breakfast. Castiel smiles. He will never be able to pay back Marilyn's kindness. He walks into the kitchen, expecting to see his housekeeper when an odd picture greets him.

His brothers, all four of them, are sitting on bar stools at the kitchen island, staring at Dean who is at the stove frying some bacon. Sam, on the other hand, is leaning against the counter, staring at his brothers.

"Dean? Sam?"

"Morning, Cas!" Sam greets him almost too enthusiastically, barely hiding his relief that Castiel has woken up.

"You finally decide to join the land of the living, I see," Dean remarks.

"Yes. So imagine my disappointment to find you in it." Cas smiles innocently as he pours coffee into his mug. "I went down here thinking that Marilyn took pity on me and decided to make breakfast. I was all too ready to throw myself at her feet in gratitude."

Dean chuckles. "Now, THAT I gotta see!"

"Not on your life, Winchester."

"Soon, asshat. I've been feeding you for four years that you throwing yourself at my feet is long overdue."

"I think my valiant efforts to keep you away from trouble is payment enough."

"Haha, jerkface. Why don't you just set the table so we can eat?"

Throughout the exchange, Castiel's siblings have been relatively quiet. However, this all changes when Michael explodes. "How dare you command my brother to set the table!"

"What do you think this is, a fucking five-star hotel?" Dean counters.

"Michael, they are being so kind as so prepare breakfast for us so apologize. Now." Castiel glowers at Michael.

"My apologies," Michael grinds out, steel in his voice. The brothers fall back into silence as Sam and Castiel passes plates around.

"Wait," Raphael says, "here? We're going to eat here?"

"Yeah, got a problem with that?"

"Castiel has a dining room."

"We eat breakfast in the kitchen. If you don't like it, you can just go back to New York."

To everyone's surprise, Lucifer laughs. "I like you, Winchester. I really do. "

Castiel rolls his eyes at his brothers. Then his gaze falls on Sam who is leaning against the counter once more, looking lost. Sam has always been the shy one, despite his size. At only 15, he is almost as tall as his brother, but prefers books and his laptop for company. "Sam," he calls the teenager, "why don't you sit next to me?" Sam gives him a smile of gratitude and sits in between him and Michael. Dean settles at the other side of Castiel and they all start to eat in silence.

"So..." Lucifer speaks up, making Castiel tense. His brother Lucifer is known for his sharp wit and even sharper tongue. "...it's kind of you to make breakfast for us."

Dean opens his mouth to say something but Sam beats him to it. Apparently, Lucifer's sarcasm is not lost on the teenger. "Cas _always _eats Thanksgiving breakfast with us." A 'bitchface' graces Sam's young features.

"Is that right?" Gabriel asks.

"Well, I really wasn't planning on making breakfast for _you_. Had I known that the entire freaking party is here, I would have done things differently."

Raphael scowls. "Different, how?"

"Well, first off, I would have just kidnapped Cas and taken him to my house to have breakfast. And second..." Dean smirks. "...I would have locked this house from the outside."

"Dean..." Castiel pleads his friend to not provoke his brothers but it's too late.

"How'd you get inside the house?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Cassy gave you a key?"

"Jealous?"

"My brothers are going to spend the whole day in Kansas City." Castiel interrupts to dispel the brewing argument. He looks at his friend, begging with his eyes for Dean to just let it go. What Dean does next, however, is better than he hoped for: he brings his hand to cover Castiel's underneath the table. Dean pats his hand twice, then lets go.

"Okay," Dean says. "Cas, if they don't have a car, you better let them have the Mercedes. We'll still have the Impala if we need a ride."

Castiel nods. "That's a good idea."

"Aww," Gabriel teases, "how...domestic."

Sam smirks. "Yeah, Cas is an honorary Winchester, so get used to it." The teenager asserts, making Castiel look at the ordinarily mild-mannered Sam in awe. Sam is nice to him, of course, and sometimes even seeks out his attention, but Castiel thought that it is just an effect of his being friends with Dean. He didn't know that Sam genuinely likes him. He smiles and ruffles the teenager's hair, something that Sam has always hated.

"Hey! Cas, stop that!" Sam rearranges his hair just the way he likes it. "Hey, can I play with your Mac after breakfast?" Sam looks at him with big, eager eyes. No wonder Dean can never say no to his brother.

"Of course, Sam."

"After you wash the dishes," Dean interjects.

"What? That's totally unfair, Dean!"

"Hey, I'm doing all the cooking."

"Your brother's right. You should wash the dishes first."

"Fine."

Castiel feels his older brothers' stares burning so he looks up. They show a mixture of disbelief and something akin to longing on their faces. They hold the look for a long time until Michael finally breaks it.

"Well, we must be going now if we were to drive all the way to Kansas City." One by one, the Miltons stand up. And, as if remembering their promise to Castiel last night, Michael pauses at the kitchen doorway. "Winchester, thank you for breakfast." With that, they leave and close the door softly behind them. Taking the opportunity, Sam jumps up and runs to Castiel's office, shouting something about getting the computer ready.

"Tell me something, Cas," Dean turns on his stool to look at him, "did you make them promise to play nice?"

"Yes, I did."

Dean laughs. "Is that part of your valiant effort to keep me away from trouble?"

"Maybe."

"Sam's right, you know."

"Right about what?"

"You are an honorary Winchester."

Castiel smiles.


	4. Chapter 4

With the turkey already stuffed, Dean convinced Castiel to have a Star Wars marathon for the duration of the morning. He smiles as Cas, in his own quiet, little way, roots for Han Solo and Princess Leia. Sam stays in front of the computer after cleaning up the kitchen and Dean couldn't be any more thankful for having such an awesome brother.

Once the afternoon rolls in, Dean gets up from the couch to start preparing things for the dinner. Two dishes of casserole are already in the oven so he works on stuffing the potatoes. Cas insists on helping out so Dean puts him on peeling duty for the salad. As Dean prepares the potatoes, he watches Cas struggle with the peeler. The nerd banker is staring at the peeler, with a frown on his face as if wondering how best to destroy the tool in his hand. Dean takes pity on him and decides to help out.

"C'mere Cas." He walks up behind Cas to demonstrate the use of the peeler. "You gotta hold the pear in your hand like this," he grips Cas's hand left hand with his own, "make sure that the teeth of the peeler is set on the fruit," he holds Cas's right hand, "and then firmly but carefully slide it downward." Dean holds Cas as he tries to peel the fruit a couple of times. "See?" Dean whispers in Cas's ear. "You don't have to fight the pear." He chuckles. "That's great, Cas. Just keep doing that." Dean doesn't move from his position and nor does he want to. He had half-walked, half-carried Cas when he got drunk, he had changed the man's shirt when he puked, and he had seen him in swimming trunks, but there is something so intimate about this that Dean just doesn't want to let go.

Cas clears his throat. "I, uh, I think I've mastered it."

Dean looks at the fruit and sees that Cas has finished peeling the fruit. "And so you have." He chuckles.

"Dean, I..." Dean tilts his head to look at Cas, waiting for him to continue, when the man leans to kiss him on the lips.

The kiss was soft and fleeting but it ignites a fire in Dean that he has never experienced before. But before he could respond, Cas has moved away to the other end of the counter, his beautiful blue eyes blown wide, his cheeks red. He looks perfect...and terrified.

"Dean, I apologize. I shouldn't have done that. I-I don't know what-"

He shakes his head then walks to the smaller man. "Cas," he grips the man's shoulders, "shut up." Then Dean leans in to kiss Cas-his Cas-on the lips.

This time, the kiss is rough, wet, and absolutely naughty. Cas, for all his quiet and reserved ways, can do things with his tongue that makes Dean want more. He pushes Cas against the counter and gets as close as he possibly can, wanting to crawl into the other man's skin and just take, take, take. He feels Cas fumble with his belt buckle and he does the same, wanting the man spread open on any horizontal surface, wet with perspiration, screaming his name.

"Hey, guys!"

They break apart, both breathing heavily. They hear Sam in Cas's office saying something and they immediately arrange their clothing haphazardly. As Dean adjusts his belt back into place, he watches Cas. The banker is avoiding his gaze, looking at the floor, up the ceiling, at the doorway, but never at him. This ticks him off so he puts a hand on Cas's stomach and pushes him against the counter once more, his strength leaving the man unable to move. Dean hears his brother moving and knows that they only have a few minutes to spare.

"Shut up and listen before Sam comes. We're gonna talk about this, you understand? Until then-"

"Uh, guys?" Dean looks over his shoulder and sees his brother staring at them with a frown on his face. "What's going on?"

Before Dean can make up an excuse, Cas saves the day. "Nothing, Sam. Your brother and I were just having a disagreement."

Sam turns to Dean with his bitchface on. "Dammit, Dean! It's freaking Thanksgiving! Don't be an ass!"

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck, "yeah, sorry, Sammy. Won't be an ass for the entire weekend."

Cas snorts. "That will be a hardship."

He should be offended, really, but Cas being sarcastic is simply amusing. He snickers along with Cas but Sam is not amused. If anything, he looks even angrier at Dean, with his bitchface in place and his arms across his chest.

"Dean!" Sam hisses.

"What, Sam?" His brother flicks his eyes at Cas.

_Aw, man. _"Really, Sam?!" Sam raises an eyebrow at him. He groans. Trust Sam to choose Cas's side in their pretend fight. He sometimes think that if given the choice, Sam would just ditch him and go live with Cas. He glances at Cas who just looks perplexed. "Sorry, Cas. Didn't mean to be an ass." He turns to his brother. "Happy now?" Sam nods. "What did you want anyway, squirt?"

"Aunt Ellen called, said that our stuff is ready. I'll go get it because Jo still has my a couple of my comic books. I'll take my bike, okay?"

Dean nods. "Okay. Oh, hey." He reaches into the oven and pulls the casserole out. He grabs a kitchen towel and wraps one scalding pan with it. "Take this to Ellen, tell her it's from us. But be careful, alright?" Sam takes the dish and nods. "And wear a helmet!" Then they hear the door close.

"So..." Dean turns to Cas, who has picked up another pear and started peeling. "Cas," he takes the pear away, "I remember saying something about talking? And you better grab this chance because I don't like-"

"That shouldn't have happened." Cas takes a couple of steps back.

Dean is surprised with what Cas said. He grinds his teeth to hide the pain. It shouldn't hurt, it really shouldn't, but Cas is the only person he has allowed to get close to him, the only person he trusts with his life, _the only other person he trusts with his brother's life. _When they first started being friends, he was wary, always watching the banker and waiting for him to get tired of Lawrence, of Dean, and move back to New York where his wealthy friends and even wealthier family are. After the second year, he finally let himself believe that Cas is not going anywhere, that the glitz and glamour of his previous life no longer appealed to him. And then this. Dean let himself be open with this man, told him his dreams and his secrets, lets Sam stay with him when he flies to New York and the kid prefers him than Bobby. He told Cas his fucking fears, and he will do this?

Dean, also takes a step back in delayed reaction and realizes that Cas is still talking. "I am sorry, Dean, I shouldn't have done that. I was reckless and it was foolish and I know that you hate commitments and I should have just stopped it. I shouldn't have given in-"

_Wait, what? _"What did you say?" Dean asks.

"I said I'm sorry, Dean!" Annoyed, Cas turns away from him.

"No, after that."

"You hate commitments."

"True. But not that either."

Cas frowns. "Then what?"

"Something about you giving in ring a bell?" Cas wets his lips with his tongue and damn if that doesn't do something to Dean's libido. "Because I'm telling you now, I want to give in. Pretty much."

"I-Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"But..."

"But nothing." He kisses Cas's nose. "I want you," he kisses his chin, "very, very much." He leans to kiss his mouth when Cas pushes at Dean's chest.

"No, Dean."

"Why not?"

"Why not? WHY NOT?" Cas laughs deprecatingly. "Have you see us?! We're the archetypes of dysfunctional! I don't think I can trust again after my last boyfriend used me to further his connections in New York and then there's you who go through lovers like a change of clothes!"

"Oh, you're gonna bring that up now? I can't believe I'm hearing this!"

"And what about our friendship, Dean? What about our friendship?! We need to think about this!"

"Oh God, Cas! Seriously? Think about our friendship?! That's awesome, man, just real awesome, especially coming from you! You kissed me first!"

"And I apologized, Dean!"

"I don't want your damned apology! I want you, plain and simple."

The sound of an engine approaching stops them from saying more. Before long, the front door opens and Dean hears Cas's brothers. Dean turns away, not wanting the Miltons to see him like this. He grabs the turkey and the stuffed potatoes, puts them on a baking pan, and stuffs the pan into the oven.

"Hello, boys!" Lucifer's voice sang. Dean doesn't look but instead adjusts the settings of the oven. And God knows what Cas is doing. _Probably peeling the pear like it's the source of all evil. _After a while, Lucifer hesitates. "We're not...interrupting something, are we?"

"Yes, Lucifer, you are," Cas answers, "because I distinctly remember telling you to stay out until dinner. It's not dinner yet. Dean and I are not finished with the preparations."

"Aww," Gabriel whines, "come on, Cassy! There's only so much we can do in Kansas!"

"That is neither my doing nor my problem. _You _were the one who wanted to visit for Thanksgiving."

Dean decides to face the brothers and stop the argument before it turns into a full-blown fight. "Guys, there are DVDs in Cas's living room. Maybe you can watch something instead?"

The four brothers look at him, as in really look at him, and then Michael nods, much to Dean's relief. "Yes...that is a nice suggestion." Then they leave the kitchen. Dean can swear that Michael knows that something's going on and he's somehow thankful that he didn't press it.

"Dean!" Sam comes running into the kitchen, holding up a picnic basket. "Here, Aunt Ellen said you owe her and that you and Cas better 'prepare something special' for Christmas to make up for it." He beams at him.

Dean looks at Cas, who quickly looks away. "Yeah, thanks Sammy." He looks at his brother. "Listen, Sam, I'll just pop by the house for a second, 'kay? Can you watch the turkey for me?" Sam looks apprehensive but dammit, Dean needs to get out of Cas's house. "Thanks, man."

He is at the door when Sam catches up with him. "Dean, are you-you and Cas aren't fighting, are you?"

"What? No!" He smiles to keep Sam from seeing the truth. "I just need to get something from the house, okay?"

"Uh, okay. Come back, okay?"

* * *

_Dean left. Oh my God, Dean left._ Cas puts his head in his hands. _I can't believe I ruined EVERYTHING!_

"Cas?"

Castiel looks up to see the younger Winchester watching him. He straightens up and starts peeling pears again. "Hello, Sam."

Sam puts a hand on his arm. "Were you and Dean still fighting?"

"Sam..." he hesitates. What does he want to say to the teenager? What can he say? Admitting the truth will only make the rest of the day awkward, not only with Dean, but with Sam as well. And Sam doesn't deserve to have his Thanksgiving ruined just because of his actions. "You need not worry. Your brother and I have settled our differences." He smiles.

"Really?" Sam raises an eyebrow, a trait that apparently runs in the family. "Then why are you guys moping?"

"We are not-"

"Oh, please. I'm not stupid, Cas. Dean went back to the house to mope, and here you are doing the same thing. And if you really have 'settled your differences'," Sam produces air quotes, "then why isn't he here?"

"Sam-"

"Look, man, why don't you go to him?"

"The salad-"

"Will be fixed, I promise. I can take over, you know. It's my favorite salad!" Sam pushes him. "Go. And don't come back til you guys are talking again."

* * *

Dean lies on his bed, looking at the ceiling. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! He can't believe that Cas said those things. _But that's just the truth, ain't it? You are afraid of commitments and you are a slut. _Dean brings up an arm to cover his eyes in shame.

"Dean?"

He lifts his head and looks at his bedroom door. "Cas?" Castiel walks into the room and sits beside Dean on the bed. "What the hell are you doing here? How'd you get inside?"

"I used the spare key under the pot. And Sam, shall we say, kicked me out of my own house. He orders us to stay here until we're..."

He covers his eyes with his arm again, not wanting to look at Cas, not wanting the other man to see how deeply hurt he really is at the rejection. "Don't worry, Cas. We're good." He says nothing more, just wishes that Cas would just leave him to wallow in his own misery. He feels the bed shift as Cas moves and he knows that this is it. This is the day Castiel leaves him behind and will not look back.

"Are we? Because that's what I told Sam but your brother basically told me that we're idiots."

"I'll talk to him. Let's just get through this night, okay? Tomorrow, we can go back to how it was before." He hears Cas sigh. Dean is about to say more when warm lips touch his own. He opens his eyes to see Cas's blue ones, hovering above him, looking at his soul.

"I want you too, Dean. Very much so."

Dean sits up, making Cas lose his balance. "Then what the _fuck _was that all about, huh?" He stands and walks away from Cas.

"Dean, all I was saying was we're not ready."

"Excuse me?!"

"Listen, Dean, before you get angry." Cas stands up too. "This-us-it's complicated. I just want us to be sure because once we cross that line, we won't be able to take anything back."

"Oh, don't worry, Cas. We won't have to. Because like I said, nothing's gonna change. We'll continue to live our lives, just like before. As if nothing fucking happened." He walks out the door and stomps down the stairs.

"Dean, wait!"

"Why, Cas? Isn't this what you wanted? What the fuck more do you want from me?!" He's near the front door when a hand grabs his shoulder and slams him against the wall. He gasps. Cas's arm is at his throat, effectively trapping him. Dean breathes heavily, surprised by the strength Cas is exhibiting.

"What the FUCK?!" he wheezes out.

"Keep quiet, Dean. I am tired of you misunderstanding me." Dean tries to push Cas away, but the nerd just pushes against him, one move away from cutting off his airway. "Enough!" Dean stops struggling. "Perhaps I should have been clearer from the start. I want you too, Dean. But we both know that you're not ready for commitment." Cas takes his hand down, but still stands close. "I, on the other hand, am." Dean stares at Cas.

The banker holds Dean's gaze for a minute before turning to leave. "Cas, I-" Cas stops and waits. "I'm not sure-"

"I expected as much."

"Shut up. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be good at this commitment thing." Cas opens his mouth but he puts a hand and covers his lips. "I said, shut up. But we've been friends for four years and that's a record for me. So I can give it a go, even if you do piss me off sometimes."

Cas swats his hand away. "You are infuriating."

He smirks. "Aww, but Cas, that's what you like about me." He leans in to kiss Cas when his phone rings. Irritated, he pulls out his phone and frowns at the display. "Sam," he grumbles, "this better be good."

"Dude, where the hell are you guys? The turkey's done and the Miltons are threatening to burn the house!"

"Okay, okay, we're coming. Bitch."

"Jerk."

He turns to Cas. "Sorry we kept getting interrupted, but I promise that we'll continue this later." He grabs Cas's hand and they leave.

* * *

Dean waves goodbye to Sam as he gets into Bobby's truck. Sam is spending the night at Bobby's for their annual hunting trip the day after Thanksgiving. Those two have started the tradition the year their dad died, and his brother has always looked forward to it.

He sighs in relief. _The day is finally over._ When they got back to Cas's house, Sam has finished preparing the salad and was even able to order the Miltons to help set the table _in the dining room_. Much to his surprise and to Cas's relief, the dinner passed without an angry outburst from either party. What's even more surprising is that the Miltons praised Dean's cooking. Dean was generally pleased, even if Gabriel made a comment about the lack of sweets at the table. After cleaning up, Sam dragged Dean back to the house to help him pack for the trip, which resulted to Dean grabbing Cas, despite the man's protests.

He goes to the living room where Cas is waiting. He finds him staring at his music collection. He walks to him real close and puts his arms around the smaller man. Cas jumps and turns around. Chuckling, Dean holds out his hands. "Hey, it's just me."

"Dean-" But Dean is tired of talking so he grabs Cas's neck and pulls him closer. Cas opens up easily to the kiss, holding on to Dean's hips. Dean moans as Cas does wicked, wicked things to his mouth, making him forget his reservations and insecurities. After a while, Cas pulls back. "Dean..."

"_Goddammit Cas! _If you say anything about us not doing this, I swear to God, I'll-"

"Fuck me," Cas orders.

Dean smiles.

* * *

Dean wakes up to the sunlight on his face. He looks at the man beside him. Cas has a small frown on his forehead, one hand under his cheek, and his hair even more messed up than usual. He pulls Cas closer and rests his head back on his pillow.

He's surprised that they made it to the bedroom. He grins as he remembers Cas's impatience last night, fervently ridding Dean of his clothes, slamming him against walls, begging Dean for release. For a man with a small frame, he packs a lot of strength. Dean's scalp still tingles from when Cas pulled his hair as he came violently. If this is normal sex, Dean wonders what will happen when they have angry sex.

He leads a hand down Cas's back slowly, from his shoulder blades to his ass, then back up. Cas's frown deepens as he slowly wakes up. He opens his eyes. "Morning, angel."

"Dean?" He looks around. "Ugh. W't time is it?

"A little after seven." He kisses Cas greedily, whose mouth opens under the assault. Cas pulls his hips closer while Dean buries his head in Castiel's throat, kissing his Adam's apple, sucking on his collarbone.

"Dean."

"Hmm?" He licks the puffed skin and then sucks the spot again.

"Oh!" Cas jerks his hips. "Dean," he says, more urgently this time.

"What?" He puts his hands on the other man's ass and squeezes.

Cas closes his eyes, grits his teeth. _That's more like it. Now, we can move on to better things. _But Cas is determined to talk, so Dean does what he does best: distraction.

"Dean, I should go."

"Why?" He grinds his hips to Cas, making the man preen.

"My brothers-"

"Can take a flying leap-"

"Oh, God, yes!" Cas grips his hair as Dean sucks on his throat, biting softly. "Fuck!"

He rolls on his back, pulling Cas on top of him, not letting up. He jerks his hips again, but Cas has had enough.

"Dammit, Dean!"

"Christ, Cas! Don't you dare say you regret this!"

"I wasn't going to, you ass. My brothers-"

"Are grown men! They know all about the birds and the-"

"I promised I'd spend time with them today."

Dean groans. "Can't we just get a break, just once? I just want some fucking time alone."

Cas smiles and kisses him. "I promise I'd be back immediately."

"Put them on a plane, Cas," he says against Cas's lips.

"Be nice." He watches as Cas gets up and walks to the bathroom. _Dammit!_ He can't wait for the cockblocking brothers to get their asses back to New York.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel finds his brothers awake, convening at the kitchen where Marilyn is preparing breakfast.

"Hey," Lucifer greets him, "look who decided to show up." Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael all have matching grin on their faces. "Where'd you spend the night?"

"At Dean's," Castiel answers promptly, "because I didn't want to spend another night listening to Raphael snore from the other room." Despite being confident that Marilyn will not repeat anything that has been said inside this house, Castiel does not want to divulge anything to his brothers, lest they meddle in his affairs again.

"Riiight..." Gabriel starts but Michael shushes him. Marilyn serves breakfast then goes to the living room to clean whatever they weren't able to clean the day before.

"Castiel..."

"Yes, Michael?"

"We just want you to know that we...respect your decisions."

"I've been here for four years, Michael, with no intention of leaving so I think that your concern is highly irrelevant."

Lucifer puts a hand on his shoulder. "That's not what we meant, Cassy." He frowns at his brother. "Winchester seems like a nice man."

Castiel wills his heart to slow down. _Do they know?_"Not entirely surprising as the brothers are remarkable people."

"Again, not what we meant," Gabriel says. Castiel decides to continue playing innocent. "Look, just-"

Michael interrupts. "We like Dean Winchester. He's taken care of you and has made you less...uptight." Castiel, Raphael, Lucifer, and Gabriel snort. Michael is the epitome of uptight. They receive a glare from Michael which makes them laugh. "Anyway...seeing you with him-with them-made us realize that maybe you've made your place right here. You're happy. And if you love him, then we won't interfere."

Castiel sits in silence, pondering Michael's words. Yes, he loves Dean, but the man is not ready. And even if Dean professes love for him in return, Castiel does not know how long it will last. He knows that he's setting himself for a heartbreak, but he can't stop himself. He's tired of keeping his distance and being only a friend for the last four years. Not when he wants so much more from Dean. "I...uh, I'll keep that in mind."

"Now, who's ready for some bowling?" Gabriel asks.

* * *

_He's not moping,_ Dean thinks, _nope, not moping_. He has spent the entire day doing odd things inside the house-cleaning his office, picking up stuff from Sam's room, tidying up his room-but Castiel is all he can think about. _He'd better hurry up_.

Five o'clock comes and he's ready to jump out of his skin. Irritated with himself, he grabs his leather jacket and walks to the door. He opens it to find Cas.

"Dean, I was just about to-" But what Cas was about to do is forever lost as Dean grabs him inside, slams the door, and kisses him. To Dean's relief, Cas also seems to have missed him, kissing Dean with a passion that he hasn't shown before. Cas pulls back and drags Dean to the living room. "I don't think I can make it upstairs."

Dean grins. "Fine by me." He grabs the lapels of Cas's coat and pushes it aside to reveal the man's throat. Dean's mouth promptly latches on his Adam's apple, sucking and licking. Cas steps away long enough to take the coat off, then goes back to Dean's arms, clutching Dean's shirt.

The sound of something falling on the floor breaks them apart. Dean looks around to see Sam, staring at them with wide eyes, his backpack sprawled on the floor.

"Sam," Dean takes a step forward but Sam steps back. "Look, Cas and I, we-"

"Don't! God, are you insane?!" Sam runs to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Dean runs after him.

"Sam, open up." He pounds on the door. "Come on, Sammy, open up. Let me explain-"

"Stay the hell away from me, Dean!"

"Dean," he looks around to see Cas by the stairs, "let's leave him be. He needs some time alone." Cas takes his hand and leads him downstairs to the kitchen. "Sit."

Dean does as he's told and puts his head in his hands. "Fuck. FUCK!"

Cas puts a mug of tea in front of him. "Dean, he needs time."

"I should've just talked to him about this first. He's just a kid! God, what the fuck was I thinking?! And now he fucking hates me!"

"Dean." He feels a hand on his shoulder, comforting and understanding. "He's your brother, of course he doesn't hate you. We just surprised him, that's all."

"Surprised? Dammit, Cas! We fucking hit him with a sledgehammer!"

Cas sighs and keeps quiet. After a while, he stands up. "Dean, I'll see if Sam would like some dinner."

Dean nods and listens to Cas go up the stairs, hoping that his brother reacts better to Cas. Sam has always hated Dean's long string of affairs and Dean is not surprised that his brother has probably had starts to think of what to say to Sam when he hears Cas shout "Dean!". He breaks into a run upstairs.

He sees Cas on the hallway, Sam's bedroom door open. "He's gone." Cas splutters. Dean runs into Sam's bedroom and looks around. "Sam's gone, Dean. I-I don't know where he went. He must have left when we were talking downstairs." He stalks to the open window and looks out. "I didn't see a note." Dean puts two hands into his hair. "Dammit, Dean! Say something!"

"We gotta go find him."

* * *

Sam isn't answering his phone and Dean has called all of Sam's friends. _They don't know where he is, they haven't seen him, they'll keep an eye out_. He just got off the phone with Ellen, who told him that he was an ass. His stomach's in a twist and his heart is breaking because Ellen is right.. Sam is a good kid, not the kind who would just run away. He laughs scornfully. He's spent these past seven years making sure that Sam grows up in a healthy and safe environment and he blows it all to bits with a few kisses. Goddammit! Trust Dean Winchester to fuck things up. Cas is also on the phone with Michael, telling his brothers to look around the house for Sam who might have snuck in. After the call, Cas shakes his head at him. Dean wipes his face with a hand in frustration. He is about to call Bobby when the man himself calls him. "Bobby, Sam's missing. Have you-"

"He's here."

He lets out a breath in relief. "Good. That's good. Just keep an eye on him and I'll be there in 30 minutes. I'll-"

"Do you really think that'll do him good, boy?"

Dean pauses, not sure if he's heard right. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that running after him all over God's green earth ain't gonna make him any less angry at you."

"Did he tell you-"

"He told me."

"Look, I know I fucked up and I'm sorry. But this-Sam and I need to talk about this."

"What your brother needs is time alone." Bobby sighs. "Look, son, your relationships are none of my concern, but you and Sam are. Now, I think that you should stay away from your brother for a little while."

"Dammit, Bobby! He's my brother, he's family!"

"Don't use that tone on me, boy! I know that! And I'm not saying its forever. All I'm sayin' is stay away until your brother is ready. Let him cool off. Then you can talk to him. Alright?"

"Bobby...just-just tell him I'm sorry, okay? And that I want him home. You know, we can talk about this-"

"Don't worry, Dean, I'll take care of him. I always do."

Dean laughs softly. "Yeah, Bobby...you always do."

"I'll tell him we talked."

"Wait. I...are you sure about this?"

"Not really, Dean, but this is what Sam needs."

"Okay. And Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"About...about Cas..."

"Like I said, Dean, I ain't gonna pass judgment."

"But I need to explain-"

"No need, son. I know. I've known for years."

"Know what?"

"That you're in love with him, ya idjit. Now, I gotta go. I need to feed your giant of a brother."

Dean closes his phone in a trance. He senses rather than sees Cas approach him. Cas. Dean hasn't had time to evaluate his feelings for the banker because, well, he's never really liked evaluating his feelings. Cas has been there for him always, making sure that he's grounded, listening to him gripe about things. Cas is, well, Cas. He is inherently kind and generous that Dean sometimes can't believe that he's his friend.

"Dean?"

He looks at Cas. "Yeah?"

"Shall we go get Sam?"

"Uh...no. No. Bobby says that Sam's safe. He, uh, he just wants time to think about things."

"Alright." Pause. "Would you like to me order something for dinner?"

"I'm not really hungry but you go on ahead."

"Dean...do you wish for me to leave?"

"Do you want to leave?"

"Not really."

"I don't want you to leave either." Dean reaches for Cas.

Cas smiles. "Then let's go to bed."

* * *

Castiel doesn't expect them to make love-and for him it is making love-once they reach the bedroom, but Dean confuses him by pushing him against the closed door and kissing him. Castiel knows that this isn't about passion or love; this is about comfort. Dean wants to have someone physically, right here, right now, to ease his pain. Castiel pants hard against Dean's neck, moaning, clutching, as his lover continues with his ministrations. He tries not to be hurt that Dean is only using his body as a means to escape, tries not to think about the possibility that Sam-kind, mild-mannered Sam-spurns at the idea of Castiel being Dean's lover.

Dean is gentle but Castiel feels cold. He knows the tenderness only masks Dean's desperation to gain control in his life and this makes him angry. He doesn't want gentleness, but passion. So he pushes Dean back against the bed, straddles the man, and impales himself, pinning Dean's hands with his own as he starts to move. Dean growls, then groans, as Castiel shifts and undulates roughly, violently on his lover. With a flick of his wrists, Dean has his hands, grasping hard, nails biting on skin.

Soon, the sensations become too much for the both of them. Dean sits up and grabs his hips, pulling him down hard. Castiel groans then crashes his lips to Dean, biting, licking, stroking. Before long, they scream their release and fall back on the bed, spent.

Castiel pants against Dean's skin, his eyes closed shut, listening to Dean's heartbeat, feeling Dean's hand in his hair. And as his breath returns to normal, he tries not to think about the probability that Dean will have to choose between him and his brother.

* * *

Dean opens his eyes to find himself alone, no Cas in sight. He frowns as he hears the shower running. He was looking forward to waking up the banker. Making up his mind, he gets up from the bed and joins Cas under the warm spray of the shower.

After breakfast, Cas had to leave to spend more time with his brothers. He thinks that Castiel was a bit cold to him this morning but his doubts are assuaged when Cas kissed him passionately at the door, before walking out the door with a shaky smile.

He frowns. Castiel may be awkward in the presence of other people but not with him. Never with him. And this worries Dean. It can't be the sex because last night was proof that the sex is awesome. Before he can think about it more, the door opens, and his brother walks into the house. Sam sees him and promptly looks at the floor. Dean doesn't know whether to hug him or yell at him for scaring him the night before.

""Hey, Dean."

"Hey," he clears his throat. "Uh...are you hungry? I can still fix you something." Sam shakes his head. "You scared me last night, Sammy. You really did." Dean sighs. "I know I should have told you first, kid. You're my brother, you deserve to know first. But I-it's so new, alright? And nothing's gonna change between us. You'll still be my spoiled brother, okay?" He pauses. "Don't you like Cas? Is that why you're like this?"

A brief shake of the head. "When, Dean?"

"When what, Sam?"

"When did you and Cas, um..."

"Got together?" Sam nods. "Thanksgiving."

"So, what happens now?"

"What do you mean, Sammy?"

Sam finally raises his head and looks at him with an intense fire in his eyes. "What happens now, Dean? Will you ditch him once you got tired of him? Will we still have him over for Christmas and New Year's and all the other holidays? Will I have to avoid him starting today? What?!"

"Stop, Sammy, just stop for a minute. Who said anything about ditching Cas?"

"Oh, please, Dean! You always do this! You always leave them once they start getting serious, and I always have to say goodbye!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Remember Cassie?! Remember Lisa?! I liked them both and when you broke up with them, I didn't see them again!"

"Sammy, I-"

"This is Cas, Dean! Cas! He's like the nicest guy we know!"

"I already know that he's too good for me, Sam!"

"That's not what I mean! I mean that if you break his heart, you're gonna break him completely. Dean, he's not gonna survive it. You know that. You better be serious about this, because he's my friend too, and if you lose him, I'll lose him too."

"Sam..." he covers his eyes with a hand. "I'm scared, man. I don't know where this is going and I don't know how this will work. I didn't exactly plan this, kid. But I've been fighting this for so long that I'm just tired." He sits down and buries his hands in his hair.

"Dean," he looks at Sam as he sits down next to him, "do you love him?"

He sighs. The question nags at him again, but if there was ever a time to answer this, it's now. "I don't know, man. I mean, he can go back to New York once he realizes that he should have someone better than me. And he's smart. I just bet he has a list of would-be lovers a mile long. I don't have anything to offer him."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He is about to retort when Sam cuts him off. "Look, you're smart too. And you're like the new George Orwell or something. And you can beat up anybody who even tries to look at Cas!"

"He said he's ready for commitment..."

"And?"

"And I told him I'm willing to try."

"Dean, commitment means that you can't go sleeping around anymore. It means it's just Cas. All the time."

"I know what the fuck commitment means, Sam!"

Sam laughs. Dean looks at him in surprise and starts to laugh too. He wonders how he can be so lucky to have an awesome brother like Sam.

"Sor-sorry, Dean. I'm just checking."

"Shut up, asshat. So are you done running away or are you just here to pick up some clothes and whatnot? Oh, and before anything else, I just want you to know that I threw your laptop out the window last night because you pissed me off."

"Dean, you didn't!" Sam runs up the stairs to his bedroom. He knows what the kid will find there: a completely safe and untouched laptop. After a while, he hears Sam yell. "Dean, I HATE YOU!"

He smiles.

* * *

After he called everyone they know to tell them that Sam is alright (and after enduring another one of Ellen's lectures) and ordering Sam to see his friends, Dean goes to his office to write.

He settles in his chair, pushing thoughts of Sam and Cas out of his mind so he can have a little brain power to actually work. After ten minutes, the doorbell rang. He stands and stalks to the door, shouting. "Cas, I swear to God! How many times do I have to tell you to quit it with the fucking doorbell?" He pulls open the door and is stunned into silence.

Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel stand on his porch, looking like they're out for blood. Namely, Dean's blood.

"Winchester! Just the man we're looking for!" Michael smirks at him. Dean thinks that it's lucky Cas knows how to smile because he's convinced that his older brothers can only conjure up a smirk.

"Where's Cas? Is he alright?"

"Yes, of course he's alright. May we come in?"

Dean doesn't really want to let them in, but he made a promise to Cas to be nice. "Yeah, sure." One by one, the brothers file inside Dean's house, heading straight to the living room. Dean sighs. _Might as well get this over with_. He speaks as soon as he reaches the Miltons. "Okay, first things first: where's Cas?"

"At the house." Gabriel smirks.

"Oh, great. Every single one of you can be cryptic," he groans. "So why are you guys here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with him?"

"Castiel is...busy." At Dean's angry huff, Michael waves his hand impatiently. "That is not of import. We came here to talk to you and it is...best that Castiel stays at the house."

"He doesn't know you dicks are here, does he?" Dean guesses.

"Dean Winchester..." Lucifer makes a tsking sound, "this will be over real quick if you just keep quiet."

"We want to thank you for taking care of Castiel all these years," Michael says.

"Uh, thanks, but you could've used the phone for that."

"We also want to thank you for the wonderful Thanksgiving dinner you prepared for us." He pauses and Dean wonders what's going on in that shrewd head of his. "We're leaving for New York today, Dean, and we want to tell you something important."

"Okay..."

"Castiel is...special and kind. And generous. And we don't like to see him hurt in any way. And since we promised that we will not interfere as long as he loves you, we will have to be content with this. So please listen carefully for I will say this only once: take care of Castiel. Hurt my brother and we will hurt you."

"Dip you in honey then throw you against an ant hill," Gabriel smirks.

"Or put him in a cage of wild monkeys," Raphael suggests.

"Oh, why don't we just set him on fire!" Lucifer cackles.

Being an older brother himself, he knows all about scare tactics; he's mastered quite a lot of them. But he refrains from laughing because of the one thing that he heard. "Wait, _he loves me_?"

"Amazing, Winchester. Off all the things we said, that's the only thing that registered in that brain of yours? It's a wonder why Castiel chose you. I mean, he can have a slew of smarter boyfriends. Honestly-"

He cuts off Lucifer's rant. "He loves me?"

"Yes, you slow monkey!" Raphael mutters in exasperation. "Much to our disappointment. We'd rather like it if he would just go back to New York and be with his someone of his own class-"

"Where's Cas right now?"

"In the house, we told you, Dean-o."

"Then how the hell were you able to slip out?"

"Well," Lucifer hedges, "we kinda kept him preoccupied."

"And how exactly?"

"We locked him in his room?"

Dean wipes a hand on his face. "You guys are dicks, you know that?"

"Yes, you've told us that before. Honestly, Winchester, you keep on repeating yourself-"

"Shut up and listen, you pricks. While I get Cas, you better get packed and hail a cab to the airport because I will not be able to stop myself from beating your asses if I see your faces again, d'you hear me?" And with that, Dean is out the door, heading straight to Cas.

* * *

He pounds on the door again, wishing that he has a phone in his bedroom. He doesn't have his cellphone on his person and Marilyn is gone for the day. All the pounding in the world will not result to his freedom. No one can hear him.

He sighs and sits on the floor beside his bed.. His brothers can be cruel. Gabriel led him to his bedroom on the pretense that he hid candy bars underneath his bed. Castiel, worried about rat infestation, started pulling apart his bed when he heard the latch of his door, a scrape, and then laughter. They have locked him in his room once before, but that was years ago when he was a teenager. He grits his teeth in anger.

He hears scraping outside his door again so he stands up. Finally. He will definitely send his brothers back to New York tonight. Locking him is the last straw. The door opens and someone he didn't expect is on the other side.

"Dean?"

He breathes a sigh of relief. Dean possibly tried calling his phone. The novelist enters his bedroom, hauling the chair after him. The same chair his brothers probably used to block his door. "Yeah. Were you expecting your brothers?" Dean turns to look behind him. He follows Dean's gaze and sees his brothers entering the house. Dean slams the door and puts the back of the chair against the doorknob, effectively locking the room from the inside. "There. Now, we can be alone."

"My brothers told you where I was?"

"Yeah, then I told them to get packing before I haul their asses out. Told you they were dicks. How could you stand them?"

He shrugs. "They're my brothers. I can't really change that."

"Should've gotten emancipated years ago."

"Is that why you're here, Winchester? To talk to me about emancipation behind locked doors?"

"Wow. You must be pissed off." He frowns at Dean who says, "You only call me Winchester when you're pissed."

"Well, I've been locked for an hour or so, I'm not really at the best of moods. So why did you lock us in here?"

"Well, one, because I don't want your brothers to barge in on us and two, I wanna talk to you. Alone."

"You despise serious talking. So why are you suggesting such a thing?"

"Listen, asshat, I don't _despise_talking!"

"You said that , and I quote, 'talking is for girls'."

"Well, yeah, sometimes...Look, are you going to let me speak or just contradict everything I say?"

"Fine." He throws up his hands and sits down on the floor again. "So talk."

Dean walks to him and sits close beside him, sighing. If he turns, he'd be within kissing distance and Castiel doesn't want that. Truth be told, he wanted to kiss Dean as soon as he walked in, but he's scared of what Dean wants to talk about. _Is he about to tell him that it's all a mistake and we can't be friends anymore?_

"Do you wanna know why your brothers locked you in here?"

"Well, I have been wondering..."

"They went to my house to give me the big brother talk." He groans and Dean snickers. "Hey, don't worry about it, I handled it alright. They did say something interesting though."

He looks at Dean. What could his brothers possibly tell him that would be interesting? _Is it about Balthazar? I've already told Dean about Balthazar_. "Wha-what did they say?"

"That you love me," Dean says simply.

He pales. "Oh."

Someone pounds on the door. "Cassy!" Gabriel's muffled voice interrupts their conversation. "We're leaving. We'll call you next week to make plans for Christmas, okay? And use protection!" His brothers all laugh on the other side of the door.

"I'm going to KILL THEM," Dean gripes. After a few moments, they hear the front door close. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Were they telling the truth?"

"And if they were?" Dean opens his mouth to talk but he interrupts. "Dean, I don't expect you to feel the same way. And I would understand if you want to cease relations with me."

"Cease rela-Are you even from this planet? You sound like a character from Doctor Who!"

"I've always said you watch too much television, Dean."

"I do not-You are NOT changing the subject!" Dean exhales then turns to him. "Cas, I don't have anything to offer you..." He starts to say something but Dean puts a hand to his mouth. "Shut up, I'm still talking. I don't have anything to offer you but I'll give you everything I can. And you better be sure about this because I can't lose you. Not to New York, not to another man. I can't lose any more people, Cas. That would just be too much." Dean uncovers his mouth. "I don't think I can bear that."

"For a smart man, you can be such an idiot, you know that, Winchester? You have already given me too much. And I am quite certain about this."

"Good answer. Because I would've locked us in here until you say yes." Dean laughs softly then kisses him, slowly, intimately, thoroughly. He gives as good as he has, until he remembers-

"Sam," he gasps out.

"What, where?" Dean looks at the locked door.

"No, you idiot. Sam. He's angry at me. He doesn't like me. He must hate me right now." He starts to get up but Dean pulls him back down.

"No, no. He doesn't hate you, Cas."

"He ran away, Dean! Or are you forgetting that? He must not like the change in our relationship! Oh my God, I can't believe this!"

"Yeah, the kid almost give me a heart attack so I ain't about to forget anytime soon. And he doesn't hate you because he came back."

"What? When?"

"After you left this morning. And we already talked."

"And?"

"And what?"

He punches Dean. "Dammit, Winchester, stop playing with me! What did he say?"

"Hey, that hurt!" He rubs his shoulder. "He was angry at me because he thought I was just playing around with you. He didn't want to see you hurt."

"Oh. Well, that's...Wait, he didn't want me hurt?"

"Uh-huh."

He feels Dean's fingers massaging his neck. "So even your own brother thinks you're a jerk?"

"Hey!"

"So...has he really accepted me? Us? Or do we give him more time? Because I don't want to create discordance between you and your-"

"Oh my God, Cas! Discordance? Seriously?! Where do you even get these words?! Yeah, he's cool with it."

They fall silent. After a while, he feels Dean's hand on his thigh. "Dean, what are you doing?"

"Well, seeing as we're okay and your brothers are gone and we're all alone, " Dean kisses him under the chin, "I was thinking that maybe," a kiss on the neck, "you know, we can get to the good part."

Then Dean kisses him earnestly, his hands all over, pushing until he's flat on the floor, but something is bothering Castiel so he pushes at Dean's shoulders. "Wait, Dean."

"What the FUCK, Cas! God, do you want me to beg?!"

"That would be a grand sight, Dean, but it's not about that."

"Then what?"

"I didn't hear a car leave the driveway. Did you?"

Dean seems to think for a moment. "Dammit, Cas! Will your brothers ever stop cockblocking me?!"

"What's 'cockblocking'?

But Dean doesn't answer him, instead stands up, pulls the chair out of the way, and opens the door...to find all four Miltons in the hallway.

"Aww, Dean-o! You were just getting to the good part!" Gabriel mocks.

Dean points at the door and scowls. "GET. OUT. Get your asses on the plane or else!"

His brothers just smirk at his boyfriend so Castiel decides to help out. "Dean, what do you think of spending Christmas in Paris with me and Sam?" As he expected, his brothers frown at the idea. Sometimes, being the youngest brother who has been absent at family gatherings for years has its perks.

"Fine, we're going!" Lucifer throws his hands up and stomps down the stairs. His other brothers follow suit. Dean follows them to the door and watches as they get on their chauffeured rental vehicles and drive away. His lover then slams the door behind him and locks it. Castiel smiles. Dean looks utterly frustrated, his scowl deepening as he walks back to Castiel's room. He uses the chair to block the door again.

"So...where were we?"

"Dean, why did you put the chair back?"

Dean shrugs, "I like the idea. And I don't want any more interruptions or I'm gonna kill somebody."

He nods then pulls Dean back down on the floor with him.

* * *

"Dean! Oh my God! GROSS! What the hell, guys!"

Dean wakes up to see Sam by his bedroom door, staring at him and Cas.

"Dean? Sam? What's going on?" Cas is just waking up.

"Dammit, Dean! I know you guys are having sex but NOT IN THE FREAKING HOUSE!"

He pulls on a pair of boxers and stalks to his brother. "Sammy, this is my bedroom and that's my boyfriend so you better have a good reason why you're waking me up this early on a Saturday!"

"Here," Sam shoves an envelope to his chest, "you got another one. Forgot to give it to yesterday."

"What's that?" Cas asks behind him.

"Nothing," he mutters.

But then, Sammy, being the bitch he is, just plows on. "It's a letter from KU, asking him to lecture at a seminar."

"Dammit, Sammy."

He feels Cas step closer to him. "Oh, really? That's great, Dean."

"It's not the first one he got," Sammy tells Cas.

"God, Sammy, you're such a tattletale! When did you grow a vagina?!"

"Haha, jerk." Then Sam leaves.

Cas touches his shoulder, beckoning him inside their bedroom once more. "So a letter, huh?" They sit on the bed and Cas nuzzles his shoulder, breathing him in. "Tell me," Cas whispers in his ear.

"There's nothing to tell, Cas. It's just a letter."

"May I read it?"

"Cas..." he rubs his forehead, "let's not talk about this, alright?"

"Dean..."

"Cas!"

"Why don't you want to go?"

"I've got too much stuff on my hands right now."

"It's just one day, Dean. It won't impede in your other duties."

"It's just a stupid letter!"

"It's not stupid. I think it's a brilliant idea." Before he can interrupt, Cas hurries on. "You have so much to teach and you're a patient teacher. I've seen how you are with Sam. I'm sure if you were to give a lecture, you'll do great."

"It's-I'm not good with words."

"Dean, you make a living using words."

"Writing them, yeah, because I can edit them. I mean, what will I say to a bunch of college kids? And I swear a lot!"

"You're not going to lecture extemporaneously. They'll let you bring in slides and presentations and a prepared lecture on paper." Cas smiles. "You can even edit out the swear words."

He rolls his eyes. "God, Cas, you're killing me here!"

"I'll make Sam do your presentation for you. And I'll help you prepare. I've been speaking in front of board members for as long as I can remember."

"Fine," he mutters. "I'll go lecture or whatever. Happy?"

"Yes."

"Good. Can we go have breakfast now? And I gotta kill Sam for waking us up." He grabs Cas's hand drags him downstairs, reveling in the fact that the banker has a lot of faith in him. Dean smiles. He's got an awesome boyfriend.

* * *

**Notes:**

- I don't know what novelists do in their spare time but I imagine that they have to have a hobby or two to get their creative juices flowing.  
- The other person Dean trusts with Sam's life is Bobby.  
- SSgt. is a real Marine rank. A simple Sgt. is not fitting for Daddy Winchester.  
- The book titles are completely fictional and, I know, I know, totally silly titles.  
- Their Thanksgiving dinner: Classic Stuffed Turkey, Roquefort Pear Salad, a loaf of Southern Corn Bread (from Ellen because Dean can't bake bread), Stuffed Baked Potatoes, a Pecan Casserole, and a Blueberry Cheesecake (also from Ellen). Oh, and Dean's Apple Pie from Ellen.  
- Dean's instructions on how to use the peeler is exactly how I use the peeler. However, I'm told that the way I'm doing it is completely dangerous and utterly wrong. But, Dean will not be Dean if he doesn't live dangerously.

THANKS FOR READING!


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